Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Hermit Thrushes in the Morning

Photo: (c) Larry Thompson 2007-2010/discoverlife.org

On an overcast morning in July,
hermit thrushes
ping-pong snippets of their
liquid melody between
north and south ridges.

I don’t understand
the loquacious banter
and I think this tragic.

If a pair of angels stood
in my midst,
would I just carry on,
neglecting to surrender my being
to the symphony of their
holy language?

Intimacy is the turnkey to the soul.

Unbearable passion is what births
everyday miracles.

Why choose to explain a cloud
rather than lie on your back
in tall grasses
and watch a menagerie
shapeshift as it passes?

I don’t claim to have any answers,

But I know this world wasn’t made
to entertain the diminutive thoughts
of reasonable people.

This world was made for those
whose heart breaks
for want of a grand romance
in which they can
never fully partake.

© 2011-2015/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Sacred Reciprocity: Courting the Beloved in Everyday Life" and "Wild Life: New and Selected Poems" (www.hiraethpress.com)

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